


Flowers of Brynhildr

by Keikaru



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Birthright Route, Drama, F/M, Flower Crowns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, King Leo, Language of Flowers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 12:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keikaru/pseuds/Keikaru
Summary: Rumor had it that on the last few pages of Brynhildr, the prince pressed flowers that represented each of his siblings.Leo decided that rumor wasn’t true.At least, not yet.--Corrin chooses Hoshido over Nohr. Her siblings are fragmented by grief and betrayal.





	Flowers of Brynhildr

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to be a oneshot but I weaved in some old stories and ideas and extended it to something! I wanted to write a Corrin/Leo story and finally...here it is. I'll probably go back and rewrite some stuff later though. There will probably be a Side B to this story since I realized some places might feel "incomplete" or wasn't fully expanded upon.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rumor had it that on the last few pages of Brynhildr, the prince pressed flowers that represented each of his siblings.

Leo decided that rumor wasn’t true.

At least, not yet.

He pressed flowers inside of books, keeping a small radiance of spring during the clutches of winter. Leo would select thick, bound books on a shelf by chance and press a flower or two inside. Most of the flowers were from the royal garden, filled with common lilies or peonies, to more carefully cultivated flora like middlemist’s red or ghost orchids. He wasn’t a botanist, but every now and then, Leo strolled throughout the gardens with an almanac and literature in hand and made an effort to recognize which was which. Eventually, these strolls became frequent, often with Elise or Corrin accompanying him when they could.

“What flower would represent me?” Elise would ask in earnest.

Leo proceeded to point to an outrageously strange flower, upsetting his younger sister. He would receive a smack on the arm, but Elise would let out a laugh. But whenever Corrin asked, he would pause and waver between a sincere or humorous response.

“I think your visage is lovelier than any bouquet made from this garden,” Leo murmured offhandedly one day.

“Did you say something, brother?” Corrin inquired. She glanced over her shoulder, a few paces ahead of him.

“I was thinking how the vases in halls could use a few bouquets. Although, father cares not for trivial matters.”

It would also behoove him to study the flora and vegetation, as Brynhildr was an earthen tome he desired to use with efficiency. The land Nohr presided over was harsh and infertile. Dry soil coupled with years of drought resulted in unsuccessful harvests. It fed nothing but revolution and vitriol against the throne. Barely any trade routes were secured and starvation among the masses led to small skirmishes that would one day progress to a civil war. That was what Leo predicted. He also felt that the other countries closed their borders and raised their taxes, preventing sales and shipments in and out of Nohr. Perhaps one day, when Xander took the throne, relations would be mended.

 

 

 

Whenever Leo gathered flowers, he would do so without the company of his family or retainers.

Leo slipped through a dark oak door that seamlessly blended in with the walls of the library. Far in a corner, a little way off from the lattice windows, the door remained unnoticed in a dim light. This door led to the gardens from the library, possibly a secret route for a nighttime rendezvous. Maids and butlers seldom frequented this nook, so Leo was safe from inquisitive eyes whenever he emerged from the passageway.

From there, he would gingerly place the flowers onto the wooden study table. Sunlight streamed through the panes and steeped the flowers in a sepia tone. Leo admired the vibrant petals, slender stems, and various shades of green. He proceeded to make a note for each type in a journal he stowed in bookshelf nearby. The journal was brown, handbound book with blank sheets. In neat handwriting, he wrote the date and the flower’s name—he thumbed through an encyclopedia of plants to ensure accuracy—and would carefully place the samples onto page. He creased the corner of the page over the flower and carefully shelved the book.

With the spare flowers—there were snapdragons, baby’s breath, buttercups—Leo walked around the bookshelves and looked for an inconspicuous title before pressing a flower in the first few pages. Sometimes, he forgot where he pressed them. Other times, he remembered. When Leo resided in the library, he allowed his eyes to wander to those who moved near a flower book. He observed an unsuspecting visitor selecting a book, flipping to the first page, only to be greeted with falling petals. Most revealed a surprised expression or gasp, followed by a kind smile as flowers tumbled from the pages an onto the floor.

Leo felt an inkling of satisfaction and resumed his studies.

 

 

 

Elise taught him how to make a flower crown. He kept the one she made in his tome. Perhaps she was the one who started the rumor.

“You need to wrap the band with some ribbon, then you can start using the thin strands of twine to tie the flowers to the band,” Elise explained. She expertly wove the white ribbon around the malleable band, creating the base. She started to tie the stem onto the band, slowly weaving around until the headpiece became a laurel made from baby’s breath.

It was a delicate masterpiece, with white and traces of light blue. She brushed the loose flowers and stem from her dress and stood up, placing the crown on top of her brother’s head. Her gesture earned a startled noise from the latter, as he was in deep concentration with his own crown. Elise giggled at her brother’s broken attention.

“You look very prince like,” she gushed, “I think Camilla would agree!”

“Well, I’m already a prince, so I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” Leo remarked, a warm flush of embarrassment tinged his cheeks. It wasn’t like him to be caught off guard. He hoped Elise didn’t notice. Luckily, she turned her back on him, gazing up at stone walls that encircled the royal gardens.

“Do you think it’ll rain?” she asked abruptly, while her eyes searched for a sliver of sunlight.

“It might,” he murmured. “But does this look okay?”

It was midday, but gray clouds loomed over the sky in a voluminous brigade. The weather ushered in a bleak and somber atmosphere, mingled in with uneventful days as of late. With a lull in important engagements, Elise dragged her brother from his room and into the gardens, offering to teach him the trades of a princess. Amused—and given no choice in the matter—Leo relented and found hours of his time being monopolized by his sister. He didn’t mind though. While he didn’t want to admit it, he enjoyed these precious moments together.

“Not bad for a beginner!” she beamed, suddenly facing him. “It’s a bit loose here and there, but it could be fixed if you retie them.”

Leo fumbled with the crown in his hands. While Elise’s was made from baby’s breath, he composed his out of gerbera daisies. Oranges, yellows, and whites decorated the crown. And while it was his first attempt, he felt a sense of accomplishment as he weaved the stems to the band.

“Why’d you choose these though?” she asked, taking a seat on the metal bench beside him. “And why these colors?”

He attached another daisy to the crown. “I thought it was fitting. These gerberas symbolize childlike innocence, I believe. Since you know different colors have different meanings, let’s just say cheerfulness is a dominant meaning I wanted to convey.”

Elise paused and glanced at Leo’s choice of colors. With a smile, she swung her dangling legs.

“There are a lot of yellows,” she observed, “I guess you think I’m bright as the sun!”

Leo chuckled. “Your skills of deduction astound me, Elise.”

 

 

 

Lately, he started to look at Corrin in a different manner. It was subtle, just minute details here and there like _her smiles are so radiant_ or _she makes monochromatic dresses look stunning._ Leo would then backtrack, mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of such thoughts. But of course, they were harmless thoughts. Nothing less, nothing more. It was only admiration for someone who he looked up too…

He gathered a few tomes in his arms and exited the library. Corrin had asked him if he could lend her his beginner tomes so she could practice. Unfortunately, Leo had misplaced them somewhere, so he visited the library to select similar tomes. He was delighted to find his sister so earnest in learning the ways of spellcasting.

Leo stopped in front of her door and knocked. Before he could announce himself, she responded.

“Is that you, Camilla?” Corrin called out, muffled from behind her door. “Sorry, I’m having trouble with the laces in the back. You can enter if you wish.”

“It’s your younger brother,” he replied. “I can just leave these tomes by your door. Feel free to come find me once you’re done. I’ll be in the training room soon.”

As he set the books near the wall, the door opened, barely a sliver of space. He was startled when he saw her ruby eyes found his.

“Oh, Leo! Do you think you can help me tie the back? I can’t knot it myself.”

Leo paused. “I could find Camilla or Elise if you want.”

Corrin opened the door a bit wider, revealing herself to be fully dressed. She wore a white blouse with subtle frills and puff sleeves while her skirt was black, and the hem stopped above her knees.

For a moment he felt his heart race. She looked lovely in anything she wore.

“Leo?” she spoke. He snapped out of his reverie. “It’ll only take a moment. I don’t want to bother Camilla if she’s not here.”

She held open the door and walked back inside. “I just need you to tie the back. It’s difficult for me to reach.”

“I could get Felicia,” he offered, but Corrin sat down in her chair in front of her oak bureau with a mirror. Leo leaned down to pick up the stack of tomes bringing them along with himself inside. He set the tomes on an empty chair and noticed her room was furnished in dark colors. Dark brown furniture along with ebony colored bedsheets and curtains—he wondered if she ever desired a lighter palette.

Corrin glanced over her shoulder and smiled as Leo walked toward her. She faced her dresser again and smiled as his eyes caught hers in the mirror. “How are you, dearest brother?” she said pleasantly, as he stepped behind her. He glanced at the white ribbons in the back, realizing how…complicated her blouse looked.

“I’m doing well, sister.” He looped the ribbons and produced a bow. It was a little lopsided, so he redid it. His knuckles accidentally brushed her back as he finished the first bow. “I apologize if the bows are uneven. Know that you brought this upon yourself though,” he said simply, with a trace of smile on his lips. He glanced at the mirror and noticed Corrin was looking down. She had a smile on her face.

“I don’t mind.”

 

 

 

Leo thought Corrin was beautiful as a flower in bloom—lovely, delicate, and ephemeral. Colored petals stretched out and breathed life, yearning for sunlight while being supported by its own green stem. Just as flowers blossomed in spring, they would wilt as summer exhaled an autumn breeze. Similar to how he thought his feelings for her would leave.

But he was wrong.

While seasons changed, his feelings for her did not.

It was always spring when she was near. A warm, radiant smile. Fresh dew drops on grass. Ripe berries for an afternoon picnic, sunsets with a promise of a new tomorrow—he associated all of these sensations and natural occurrences to her.

His love for her was delicate as well, one that bordered between familial and _eros_. Leo didn’t prepare himself for this type of love to exist in his realm of emotions. So it was a relief knowing she wasn’t related to him by blood, but a feeling of shame lingered. It didn’t help that he felt conflicted for a while. He denied his feelings, written them off as admiration, but ultimately—he surrendered himself to them. These were real feelings, one that thinned the lines between a sibling bond and more. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was no use chasing away a feeling he couldn’t escape.

So Leo acknowledged his feelings. But he wouldn’t act on them. That was the ultimatum he made for himself.

Afterall, there was a slim chance she would reciprocate his feelings.

 

 

 

Xander was strong and stoic, a paragon son to his father and the throne. Leo chased after his brother’s footsteps in vain, only to find that Xander’s strides outpaced his own. Along the way, Leo exchanged his blade for an arcane art—sorcery. If Xander pursued a physical prowess, then Leo would excel in strategy and tomes.

“You could say I am the equivalent of what Xander is with a sword, but with magical capabilities,” Leo explained to Corrin, as they were training indoors. The common tome he held his hand had a dark brown cover while the spine was encrusted with gold. While Leo recited his spell, he conjured a flame of orange in his hand. “This is what it should look like. It’s difficult to understand some of the spells, but all it takes is a clear mind and purpose behind your words when you cast it.” He extinguished the flame in his hand. “Now concentrate.”

Corrin nodded. She silently mouthed the words and held her hand out, palm facing upwards. While Leo objectively observed her, he couldn’t help but notice the wonderful curve of arm and her slender frame. As she recanted the spell, a small ember floated in the middle of her palm. Her lip curled into a smile and she turned to face him, almost startling him from his thoughts.

“Leo! Did you see that?” Triumph and a swell of pride glittered in her words. “I was able to do it!”

Leo offered a smile in return. “I did—no need to shout, sister.”

He continued to teach her while performing the same exercises as an example. While he taught her another lesson, a light pitter drummed along the windowpanes. Both of them paused and turned their heads to window and watched—watched as the rain fell down in a rhythmic symphony.  

“You’re like rain, Leo.” Corrin said quietly, her eyes remained transfixed to the window.

He only glanced straight ahead, witnessing raindrops slide down the glass. “What do you mean?”

She tore her gaze away from the window and giggled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you dampen my spirits or anything. Far from it, actually…” She paused, and she looked at him. He tilted his head, curious of her explanation. “What I meant was…a little bit of rain makes flowers grow. In a sense, you have helped me grow, not just in sorcery and tactics—but in other aspects as well. You and our siblings have showered me with kindness and love and what it means to be a family. Something I’ve always longed for.”

Corrin turned toward him, a soft expression in her eyes.

“So thank you for that. But…Leo…you have shown me something I never thought I’d want.”

He swallowed and felt his heart drum in his chest. He wasn’t sure what she was trying to convey, but whatever it was, he wanted to retain their sibling like relationship. That was the one thing he didn’t want to change.

…or was it?

“Sister?” he prompted softly.

She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated. Just then, lighting flashed across her features and bathed the room in an ethereal glow.

Leo tried again; anticipation caused his heart to beat rapidly.

“Are you trying to say—"

_That you love me?_

The words he wanted to utter were lost to a cymbal clap of thunder. Neither flinched when the room rumbled and stilled. The steady sound of rain filled the silence, prolonging her response. It felt like an eternity as they gazed at each other without saying anything.

…It seemed as if the moment was over just as it lasted.

Corrin averted her eyes, and Leo did the same. There was a strange tension in the air that was almost palpable—one he desperately wished would dissipate. For once, he was tongue tied on what to say to her. And he was also glad he didn’t finish his sentence.

 _It was wishful thinking,_ Leo thought, as turned his heels and walked away from the window. He went back and gathered the tomes. _Does she feel the static too? I can’t be the only one…?_

_No… It’s foolish to think like that._

He suppressed his feelings and turned to other thoughts. War, tactics, strategy, meetings. Anything _but_ feelings.

“I think…that’s enough for today. You deserve a break,” he said nonchalantly. The prince gathered the tomes and held them in his arms. He looked at Corrin and noticed she stood in front of him, holding out a tome for him to take. He thanked her and gingerly took it. As he took the book, his gauntleted fingers brushed hers. It was quick, sudden, and gone.

Before he left, she called out to him.

“I meant to say that you gave me a newfound appreciation for flowers.” She held her hands behind her back, smiled, and rocked on the balls of her feet. “You never told me what flower represents me best, dear brother.”

It was her attempt at normalcy. She must have felt the tension as well.

He shook his head and hid his grin from her, only holding up a hand as a gesture of goodbye.

“I’ll see you.” He paused. “Dear sister _._ ”

 

 

 

Leo found himself in the library. He paced around shelves and tables, in deep trepidation. Trouble brewed near the border of Nohr and Hoshido. War became a frequent topic amongst not only citizens, but with noble and the royal family alike. Father assigned scouting trips and countless missions to suppress revolting towns or nearby tribes. Leo did all he could to prevent a massacre, but this was only the beginning. He wasn’t sure what it was the beginning of—a civil conflict or the start of something on a massive scale. With the way things were progressing, war between two powerhouse countries would devastate the treaty between them.

“Milord?” Niles emerged from the shadows, holding onto a small crate. “I apologize if I’m interrupting, but I was able to find it.”

Leo nodded his head in greeting. “I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t be sending you off on frivolous tasks, but it means a lot to me. Thank you, Niles.”

His retainer placed the crate on the table, next to a few open books. Niles moved to leave but lingered at the edge of the table while glancing at the pages.

“Is it wise, though?” the outlaw murmured quietly, “to hold feelings for her?”

Leo stilled. “It’s not wise at all.”

The prince moved to the table and saw the crate. Inside contained a square pot with soil in it. Amidst the small green leaves there was a tiny white bud. With proper care, the flower would blossom. But for now…Leo would have to care for it. This was the fourth flower he had obtained. The first one was planted outside but died due to a lack of light and dry soil. The second one perished from a disease during transportation while the third yellowed due to excess water and poor drainage.

This time around, Leo would make sure to monitor it in his room. It was difficult enough that there wasn’t much information on these plants. It was not native to Nohr.  

“It’s really not wise of me to love her like that. But I’ve resigned myself to being by her side,” Leo continued quietly, “is it that obvious?”

His retainer was silent as he listened. Niles said nothing and only bowed, signaling his departure. As he moved around the table, the hem of his cape caught the edge of the crate and it prodded one of the books to the edge. In a swift moment, Niles caught the book before it fell and apologized to his liege for losing his place in the book.

“It’s fine. I don’t remember what I was looking for in the book.” And it was true—Leo forgot why he had the peculiar book out in the first place.

After another apology, Niles left, and Leo was alone again.

He sat down in the chair next to the crate, wondering how long this ivory flower would survive. If it withered away, it was fate that his love for her was cursed. If the flower lived to blossom, then he would gift this to her.

Leo folded his arms and placed them on the table. From there, he rested his head onto his arms and sighed. _Is it wrong to love her?_ _I just want to protect her._

The prince lifted his head and his eyes was drawn back to the flower bud. It was small, tragically so. He was uncertain if it would flourish. At the very least, he would try.

After all, he thought Corrin of an elegant gardenia.

 

 

 

By mere chance, Leo stumbled across a book with a page ripped out of it. The sentence was cutoff at _gladi—_ and he wanted to know what the word was. It wasn’t gladiator or gladius, the context hardly made sense. While it took some time, he managed to retrieve another copy of the book and turned to the missing page. The absent page contained a flower called a gladiolus. It was a peculiar flower with its long stem and solid colored petals. The flower ranged from a variety of hues and the gladiolus itself was reminiscent of a sword. Tall, unflinching, and strong it reminded him of Xander.

“Leo? The hour is quite late. You should consider retiring to your room.”

 _Speak of the devil_ , Leo thought. He turned to see his older brother at the edge of the table, a candle illuminating his face. From this angle, Leo saw how the shadows danced around the room, desperate to cling to the light before dispersing into an inky darkness.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Leo replied honestly.

Thoughts of uncertainty and rumination kept him awake for nights on end. When Xander didn’t respond, Leo gestured to an empty chair and Xander took a seat across from him. His brother placed his candle a foot away from his own light, illuminating the other half of the table.

“Why are you here? I thought you disliked wandering the halls past curfew?”

Xander glanced at the book his younger brother had out. Conscious of the flower, Leo quickly flipped the page.

“Leo, I had a strange dream.” The crown prince’s voice had a raspy, grave effect. It was as if he came to a sobering revelation.

Leo pretended to be interested in his book as Xander collected his bearings. The quiet atmosphere of the library suddenly produced a strange anxiety that prickled the hairs on his neck. As the silence stretched, Leo wondered what his brother had to say. It became almost eerie waiting for Xander to speak, as the shadows around did nothing to soothe the restless feeling in his chest. Xander usually carried himself with a commanding presence and voice—but this time, his brother seemed…off. Different. Afflicted by an unknown enemy that rendered him silent. Leo refused to observe his brother’s expression, wondering what could have made his brother become so…still.

Leo flipped to another page and carefully asked, “What did you see?”

On cue, the grandfather clock chimed and signaled a new hour. While night carried on, their conversation lulled. Finally, when the chimes were muted into a soft echo, Xander spoke.

“If…by any chance, if something were to happen to me, would you be able to claim the throne in my place?”

Leo looked up from his book, alarmed. “Camilla would have to abdicate the throne then.”

Xander shook his head. “It may surprise you, but Camilla told me she has no interest in the throne. She said she would feel better if she could entrust Nohr’s future to you.”

It a moment before the words sunk in.  

“Camilla said that?” Leo couldn’t help but echo his brother’s words. He felt a swell of pride  knowing his older sister held him in such high, capable regard. But it suddenly dawned on him that Xander was watching him, so Leo felt a bit embarrassed and cleared his throat.

“Um, if that hypothetical were to truly happen” —Leo took a deep breath and responded slowly, watching the candlelight flicker— “I would do my best for the sake of Nohr. I may have little experience in leading others, but I know I will steer Nohr toward a stable path. One that will ensure the safety and prosperity of our citizens. No war…only peace for as long as we can maintain it.”

Curiosity, mingled in with concern, made him glance at Xander. His brother no longer held a stony expression on his face. Instead, there was a look of relief, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Where the burden went too, Leo did not know.

“Thank you for your honest reply. I’m sorry for bringing up such a serious matter.”

“Of course, brother. But…do you plan on taking a trip somewhere? Your speculation has left me a bit concerned.”

To Leo’s surprise, Xander chuckled. But it unnerved him. It seemed forced and hollow.

“Don’t worry yourself, little brother. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. My dream only perplexed me, but after talking to you, I feel much better.”

Leo didn’t remark about Xander’s fatigued silhouette, so he only nodded. Suddenly, Xander stood up. His chair scratched the ground and it left a ghostly echo throughout the library.

“I think I’ll head off first. I hope you will do the same soon. Goodnight.”

“Yes, goodnight.”

Leo watched as Xander’s figure melded into the shadows. His footsteps reverberated down the halls until Leo heard nothing but faint foot falls.

While Xander found his peace of mind, the conversation left Leo a bit apprehensive, if not, troubled. Xander never told him the contents of his dream but maybe it was better not knowing.

 

 

 

Even if Camilla expressed little interest in the throne, she spoke of suitors and marriage.

“My darling brother, you look so handsome in your suit!” She hummed a merry tune and clasped her hands together as she saw Leo walk out from behind the screen. “I overheard father permitting you to wed anyone you’d like once you’re of age. After all, the season is ripe for romance and intrigue.”

Leo made a face while the tailor—a middle age woman with her blond hair pulled into a neat bun—inspected his suit and pinched his shirt back to see how loose it was. She pinned his sleeves back until it was at a suitable length.

“You can change out of the suit if you wish,” the tailor said, as she scribbled down measurements on a piece of paper. “I’m going to make a sketch of the outfits and pick out some fabrics. And feel free to make yourselves comfortable for the next hour. My ladies will bring you refreshments if you ring the bell over here.”  The woman bowed and made her way into the back of the shop, the door swinging shut.

“I’m glad that’s over with.” Leo huffed and pulled at his dark collar, grumbling, “It’s quite stifling with so many layers on.”

Camilla let out a hearty laugh. “Looking good has a price, my dear.”

They were both at a famous tailor, _Nohr Novelty_ , to have their outfits made before a grand ball set a month from today. Father had ordered him and Camilla to go, whereas Elise had hers fitted a few days prior. Xander and Corrin were scheduled for tomorrow since both were on their own respective missions today. Whatever mission they were on, Leo bid them to return safely.

Once Leo changed back into comfortable attire—today consisted of a white cotton shirt, black riding pants, and dark laced boots—he took a seat in a crimson armchair across from his sister.

“Remind me again why father is hosting this reception?”

“My baby brother looks so cute when he pouts.” Camilla teased.

Leo stopped himself from rolling his eyes—it would only further her point. She smoothed out her ivory skirt and gave him a warm, maternal smile.

“But to answer your question—have you ever thought of marriage?”

“Not particularly. It only crosses my mind as a political maneuver. Just to solidify alliances and such.”

Camilla’s smile remained. “Father wishes to acquaint ourselves with the other nobles and barons. War brews on the horizon so it’s best to secure alliances and trade routes just in case the worst happens.”

“I see.” Leo thought about it for a moment.

He glanced around, noticing various types of fabrics strewn across tables and walls. There were a few pin cushions, a measuring tape, and colorful ribbons hanging on the screen he changed behind. Near the entrance stood a cash register and a vase of unidentified flowers. While the shop was small, the tailor was a renowned for her designs, fabrics, and touch of elegance. Most customers who frequented the tailor had sizable purses and ambitious plans to impress.

“What do you think would be a worst-case scenario?” he asked delicately, glancing at Camilla.

She crossed her leg and made a thoughtful expression. “As long as we have each other, I don’t believe there would be a ‘worst-case scenario.’ All of you are so precious to me. I don’t think I could bear it if I had to let one of you go. Including my retainers.”

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Leo noticed she dignified a careful response of her own. “What if one of us defected and went to an enemy army instead? Would you be able to forgive a traitor? Much less, fight them?”

Camilla chuckled. “It’s almost poetic to meet up again, although on opposite ends.”

He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

“Well, it would be a difficult to fathom. It seems unlikely for that to ever happen though. But to entertain your hypotheticals, let’s just assume the person who leaves us is…our beloved Corrin.” Her smile wilted a bit as she said it. It almost made Leo feel bad for mentioning the topic. “I would be terribly distraught. Not just her, but if anyone one of us leaves…the grief in my heart would never repair.”

“I see,” Leo murmured quietly. A somber atmosphere began to take root and he silently cursed himself for chasing away a jovial outing. “I apologize for such thoughts.”

“No,” she started. Her voice was gentle and kind. “There’s no harm in thinking of such things. It could happen, but I hope it doesn’t. But anyways” —she immediately clapped her hands together, dispelling the negative air— “What if our dear Corrin got married instead? I think that’s the only parting I would wholeheartedly allow! She would look absolutely stunning in a white gown and veil.”

“I suppose.”

Camilla uncrossed her leg and leaned forward in her armchair, her eyes glittering and bright. “Do you remember when we were younger? When I spoke of marriage to her, I fondly remember her saying, ‘I want to marry big brother Xander!’ It was so sweet and precious of her.”

Leo smiled and reminisced with her. “I remember. It was a sunny afternoon, when we were outside in the courtyard. Springtime.”

“Precisely so. Even if it was in the past, I long for more days like that.”

He leaned back in the plush armchair. Memories from long ago emerged and he saw Xander standing next to Camilla, while he and Elise were seated on the metal bench. Corrin was already standing, and she took Xander’s hand and exclaimed how she would marry him because other suitors could not compare.

“I also remember her pausing to realize, she wanted to marry you too, Leo.”

Leo felt his cheeks warm a bit. “Oh, did she? I don’t recall.”

That was a lie. He did remember.

He just didn’t want Camilla to see his embarrassment.

Camilla giggled, noticing his faint blush. She was relentless. “Corrin was so adorable. She took your hand as well and said, ‘But I love Leo too. I won’t marry anyone else unless they’re like my wonderful brothers!’ My, she had such high standards! I’m glad she does, though, haha.”

They continued to reminisce about golden days and simpler times. Through conversations, they relived the past in such vivid detail, even remembering the linen tablecloth they stole for a picnic outing, numerous rainy-day mischiefs, and even visits to the gloomy fortress to visit Corrin again.

Eventually, the hour transpired, and the tailor came back with sketches and a selection of fabrics. Camilla made some suggestions with hers while Leo chose a few fabrics. Once the siblings were satisfied with their choices, the tailor wrote down their decisions and finalized the designs. Finally, the tailor estimated around the time of the ball that their outfits should be tailored and sent to them.  

As Camilla paid for the outfits near the register, Leo stood by and observed the white vase. Up close, he was able to make out the pink flowers. They resembled carnations.

He thought these flowers were fitting for Camilla.

 

 

 

Leo dreamed of Corrin.

She was underneath him, wearing only his white cotton shirt. It hitched as she moved her thighs, with him settling between her legs.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He leaned down to kiss her. She eagerly reciprocated his kiss and tugged on his hair.

It was so wrong. But it felt so right.

…

When he woke up that morning, a mixture of shame and desire dominated his thoughts.

For a while, he avoided passing her in the halls.

He wished the gardenia in his room would hurry and blossom.

 

 

 

“She’s gone,” Camilla whispered, standing in Leo’s doorway. “Hoshidans kidnapped her.”

Weak sunlight spilled in his room that day. The color in his world were off kilter and for how long, he did not know. But that day became a catalyst….a premonition.

Panic didn’t fully register until he questioned his sister for more details.

Father’s orders. Hoshidan border. Fortress. Bridge. Bottomless Canyon. Corrin. Missing.

Once the situation was fully pried from Camilla, Xander appeared by the door adorned in full armor. When Leo saw Siegfried by Xander’s hip, Leo knew the situation escalated by tenfold.

His heart raced while thoughts flitted across his mind. Was Corrin okay? Did she sustain an injury?

“How could father send her on such a mission? Who did she go with?” Leo remarked, trying to keep his voice leveled but failed. He hastily threw on his armor and grabbed Brynhildr. As he followed his siblings out of the room and into the halls, he saw the grave expressions on his siblings’ face. He averted his eyes.

Camilla was hurting. Xander was silent but furious. Elise was somewhere, possibly being consoled by her retainers.

_What about me? How do I feel?_

Just a day prior, they had dinner together. Leo was finally speaking to Corrin again without feeling awkward and Corrin was overcome with happiness that she embraced him without warning. Just when normalcy came back, an unexpected issue threatened to tear their happy family away. Leo cursed himself for having such feelings and avoiding her longer than necessary. To make some amends, he prayed to the gods and wished she was safe. That she was unharmed with limbs intact and to return to them with a smile on her face.

“We’ll find her,” Leo stated firmly, looking at Camilla. She numbly nodded. Xander agreed.

In a few hours, a small, but elite Nohrian army surrounded the fortress. Traces of a skirmish was evident, but there was not a corpse in sight. The air was cool and gloomy and gray clouds hovered in the sky above as the trees around them rustled in an unsettling rhythm. The wooden bridge was jostled by a few strong gusts, but other than that, the landscape felt off. Ominous.

Something wasn’t right.

Leo climbed down from his horse and observed some dark spatters on the ground. It resembled blood. He hoped it belonged to the enemy. Xander came down from his horse and gestured for a few of his men to surround the abandoned fortress. In a matter of moments, the premise was secured and thoroughly searched. A report came back saying it was devoid of life and the battle most likely occurred around the fortress, lasting about an hour.

Xander nodded and ordered his men to continue searching. He turned back to talk with another solider and Leo overheard how they shouldn’t rule out the possibility of Corrin and her retinue falling into the Bottomless Canyon.

Leo glanced over at the bridge. It swayed in the wind as it overlooked the depths of the unknown. He shivered. It seemed such a gruesome end, a treacherous fall only to be impaled by jagged rocks from all directions. Corrin wouldn’t make the mistake to fall in—it was unlike her. But…

He pushed away the thought and climbed back on his horse, holding onto the reins.

 _She has the devil’s luck_. _I know she’ll be fine._

 

Leo remembered when he and Corrin were kids, sitting on that familiar metal bench, she told him that he was her favorite. It elated him to no end, and he promised to keep this a secret from the rest of his siblings. Knowing Corrin, she probably told this to everyone to make them feel special. But Leo liked to pretend he was her favorite.

He liked her as well. And he loathed the idea of her being wedded to someone else. It was a childish thought, but he was young and selfish and disliked sharing his favorite person.

Now he knew how Camilla felt when she told him how it grieved her so, seeing Corrin leaving them without a goodbye.

She only smiled, one filled with sorrow but not of regret.

Cherry blossoms swirled in the air, along with naginatas and lances, swears and foul language. Yet among the chaos, he only searched for _her._ He saw her familiar silhouette, along with a golden blade in one hand. He felt his heart fracture as she severed her ties to Nohr with a final glance and swing of her sword.

“ _Corrin_!” he yelled. He was desperate. So desperate to cling onto the remaining moments he had with her. Whatever happened while she was held captive, they must have poisoned her with half-truths and wretched lies.

He yelled her name again and attempted to move closer but Xander only pulled him onto his horse, shouting for him to watch out for a stray naginata.

Later, as Leo would learn while sitting in the infirmary, with a dull look in his eyes, the naginata skimmed his cheek. It wouldn’t scar, but the betrayal from his sister would.

 

 

 

The following months were a violent blur. The ball that was supposed to be held turned into a formal declaration of war. Alliances were put together in haste while Nohr annexed smaller nations around their borders. Father almost seemed to rejoice by the news whereas Xander locked himself in an emotionless cage. Camilla roamed the halls at night shaking with grief and Elise disappeared for days at time. Where she went, Leo never pried. They were all dealing with _her_ absence in different ways—he couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t been eating nor sleeping properly either.

And gods, did her departure wound them all. Weeks passed ever since Corrin failed to return from her mission. Frantic siblings and retainers tried to track her down but to no avail. Even Niles and Beruka had trouble with their underground contacts until finally, on a fateful day, mixed with delight and dismay—their reunion took place on the grassy plains of Hoshido. Underneath an afternoon sun was an atmosphere filled with iron wrought tension and uncertainty. Armies were stationed within their respective borders, and only the siblings of each kingdom stepped forth. When Leo arrived, he noticed how comfortable Corrin looked beside the other royals. He hated how from a glace, she appeared aligned with the kingdom of white.

It was impossible, she was only fooling the enemy…right?

He refused to believe it. It had to be a spell—a trap, a farce—to lower the Hoshidan’s guard with Corrin on their side.

…Right?

What sickened him the most was the smug looks on their faces. As if Corrin belonged to _them._

That day on the grassy plains, all Leo remembered was _pain, anguish, hurt, and loss._

The Nohrian siblings pleaded for her to return— _you belong with us. The bonds we forged are greater than any ties made of blood. Years of trust can’t be severed with a knife of one week!_

Gods. He was so, so incredibly wrong. The situation was not as he predicted. Impossible circumstances were suddenly plausible, _real_. The hypothetical conversations with Xander and Camilla…the speculation of a worst-case scenario…this was reality.

This was a future he never wished to anticipate.

And the day came back, replaying in his mind like a record on repeat.  

 

 

 

_“You can’t possibly…”_

_Leo gazed at her; his jaw was set. She only smiled back, unbothered. Somehow, her pleasant features became distorted in his eyes._

_He noticed her body was rigid and her mind was made up. Leo wanted to scream at her, yell at her, scold her for being so stubborn when it was unneeded. But he couldn’t find the will to do so. Leo clenched his fists, feeling his finger gauntlets dig into the palm of his glove. It hurt._

_Her betrayal hurt._

_“Sister, I don’t understand…” His voice wavered. He shook his head. “Why are you…”_

_The wind whipped his blond hair over his eyes, and he brushed his fringe aside. Leo could only stare at her, watching the wind jostle her hair over her shoulder. She seemed miles away, on the cusp of an unknown world. He desperately wanted to reach out for her, to be within her grasp._

_“Leo.” She smiled and offered her hand. “Please understand.”_

_“I don’t. I can’t.”_

_“I belong with them.”_

_“But_ we _are a_ family _. Have you no fealty?” His voice began to rise._

You can’t leave us.

Don’t go. Please don’t go.

_“Hoshido resonates with me, Leo. The pulse of the Dawn dragon…it calls to me. Stronger than Nohr’s. This feels like my birthright.”_

_“Corrin, have you lost your wits? Those Hoshidans are_ lying _to you—”_

_“Leo, can’t you see what Nohr has done? There is no justification to this war. Nohr has only militaristic aims, conquering one kingdom after another. There’s no end to Garon’s reign.”_

_“Father may do things we may not agree with, but he is liable to change,” he reasoned. Leo gestured toward himself. “I’ll even smooth things over with father, just please, come back.”_

_“My mind is set.”_

_“The Hoshidan’s are only using you.”_

_“And you’re not Garon’s puppets?” Corrin retorted; her smile gone._

_“Corrin—”_

_“No Leo. You don’t understand.” She reached for the Yato at her side and steeled herself. “If I can’t convince you here, then leave me be. This is my decision and I won’t budge. Though you may not agree with me, I only want peace for the world. And that means eliminating the root of the problem.”_

_She pointed her Yato at him, her eyes filled with a crimson determination. “Nohr.”_

_He shook his head, feeling Brynhildr’s warm glow at his side._

_“If I turn my blade against you, I pray you will surrender. Because Leo” —she offered one last smile, one that ached him so— “you were always my favorite.”_

 

One battle after the next, the cycle of violence and rage and hurt would never end.

Whenever Xander wasn’t in his study, he was always on the frontlines.

Whenever Camilla ceased to mourn openly, she took up her axe again.

Whenever Elise returned from her mysterious trips, her clothes were always wrinkled and dirtied at the edges.

 

 

 

The dining room was always empty. Everyone ate at irregular hours and every now and then everyone would sit together and dine in complete silence. There would always be an empty plate for _her_ though.

It was worth mentioning that his retainers accompanied him as of late. He was grateful for their presence, as the silence became unbearable.

Leo was unaccustomed to grief lasting this long.

 

 

 

Moonlight illuminated his quarters as he retired to rest. Another long day of war counsels and strategy meetings exhausted him to the core. As he placed his books down onto the table, he accidentally kicked something. A small, squarish pot poked out from near his desk and chair and Leo knelt to observe it.

 _Ah._ It was a white flower, the gardenia.

Without thinking, he smiled.

Then he picked up the pot and smashed it on the floor. Instantly, ceramic shattered while soil was strewn everywhere. The damned flower was crushed beneath the soil and he saw its roots stick up. He hated it. He hated how lovely the flower bloomed only when she left. And he hated how its ivory petals reminded him of the love he cherished.

He felt his heart rupture again and again and again. It hurt. It fractured. It splintered in a million ways, down a million crevices. His shoulders shook and he felt something wet roll down his face.   

His knees gave out and he sunk to the ground. One by one, he gathered the broken pieces in a silent vigil. For it to heal, he had to hurt. He only wished the process was smooth and linear.

It was not. It was tumultuous and awful.  

When most of the pieces were gathered into a corner, he stood up and brushed off the dirt. Tomorrow he would ask one of his retainers to help him clean the remains. Gods forbid letting someone else see him wallow in his misery. He ordered everyone around him to never speak of _her_ name, much less, utter it. Most maids and servants gave him sympathetic looks and he was glad they had the decency to let him grieve alone.

Even when the traitor was out of sight, she had to be out of mind.

Yet the irritating flower came back and triggered the ugly feeling once more. As the campaign occurred, he had forgotten the flower’s existence. One of the maids most likely tended to it.  

But no more.

He had no use for a thing.

 

 

 

Leo wondered what he was loathed more with the war, the aftermath or the cause.

He doesn’t remember what he’s fighting for anymore, only the vaguest notion of fighting to preserve his country and culture and because his father orders it so.

Elise sustained an injury never meant for her. Xander fell in battle without so much of a word. Camilla committed suicide after grief and insanity consumed her.

Only Leo remained.

Stripped of his title and crown, he hung his head low with eyes closed and all semblance of emotion has left him. All he waited for now was for the guillotine to release him of his burden of a king’s crown he never yearned to wear.

 

Amongst the crowd, he saw a hooded figure. Hair the color of alabaster tumbled out from under the hood and Leo wondered, maybe, just maybe, that figure was _her._ But it was impossible. The crowd that surrounded him were mainly Hoshidan and vengeful and desired to the end of all Nohrian rule and royalty.

Leo averted his eyes, ignoring eyes of animosity and slurs and hateful decrees by the masses who he had fought against only weeks prior. No welcoming eyes nor any Nohrian generals or officials were here to witness or protect the last of Nohrian royalty. The final assault lead by Ryoma crippled the remaining defenses Windmire had left and most of the citizens had either fled, were captured, or slaughtered on sight. Several tribes and territories allied with Hoshido seldom offered mercy to the Nohrian citizens, despite Leo’s own pleas to spare them as most were not involved in his father’s treachery and brutality.

Leo had not heard of Odin’s whereabouts and assumed the worst. He desperately prayed for the retainer to have had a swift and merciful end. As for Niles— _oh gods, Niles—_ he couldn’t begin to even fathom his other trusted retainer’s outcome. It was so _gruesome,_ _gruesome, gruesome_ that Leo had emptied the contents of his stomach while he was dragged past the courtyard and directed to the gallows.

Leo wept bitter tears as he turned his head away, hatred surpassing any depths of brimstone and his rage burned hotter than the sun when it melted the wax from Icarus’ wings. Nothing sickened him more than seeing his retainers, his trusted and beloved and cherished friends being subjected to such inhumane torture.

 

Once he stepped onto the platform in the courtyard, he lifted his head. Poised and coldly gazing out at the crowd in front of him, he accepted the roars from the masses as his funeral dirge. Finally, he closed his eyes.

What was it like, he wondered, to be free from his father’s bloodline? How different it would have been, if his father had not turned the path of destruction and grief, but rather the bridge of redemption and forgiveness.

 

What legacy his father created; Leo bore the brunt of it all.

 

Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, low and melancholic. He realized how under different circumstances, the very same bell would have rung for his coronation, wedding, anniversary—and a future wholly robbed by his father’s selfish desires.

 

Under the slate colored sky, he waited for the executioner to perform his duty.

It was almost poetic to allow the surviving prince to reenact a punishment that was outlawed several years prior. Death by guillotine had some novelty to it, albeit quite tame and not as dramatic as being thrown into the Bottomless Canyon. Leo would have preferred the leap, falling into an eternal dark abyss with jagged teeth greeting him at every turn…

He felt a pebble hit him, reeling him back to reality. Leo maintained a neutral expression as the frenzy around him increased. A few more pebbles hit the platform. The mass continued to spew hateful words, some in broken English while others were versed in Nohrian slurs.

Leo opened his eyes.

How much longer will his captures deny him peace?

He ignored everyone except the hooded figure with alabaster hair. The individual edged closer, but the tall platform dividing Leo from the crowd prevented anyone from approaching. For once, he was glad that the humiliating platform he was on offered some protection from the crowd’s proximity.

The figure finally situated themselves directly in his line of sight. Cautiously, they held up their head and slightly pulled the hood back, revealing crimson eyes Leo knew so well.

Her face was streaked with tears—endless tears like a broken valve or aqueduct beyond repair. The horror and shock on her face made him look away, but his eyes found hers again.

He wasn’t sure what _she_ was doing here, of all places. She had turned coat and fled, away from her kin and toward the rivaling nation. She held no loyalty or duty to Nohr. Only to keep a false pretense of trust and to extract herself when she saw fit. Rage boiled inside him again, but immediately the anger left him. He couldn’t be furious with her, at least, not for long. She was still family, his beloved sister. She would always have a soft spot in his heart, even as she turned her sword against Nohr and defected, taking up arms with her homeland instead.

He had to admit, though he would brand her over and over again as a traitor, he would never order her death. He would offer clemency and spare her remaining retainers. He would offer peace, a treaty, an armistice, anything to mend the relationship she had splintered by leaving Nohr. By leaving their siblings. By leaving him.

Her betrayal hurt, gods did it hurt. It hurt more than any flesh wound he ever received, and the wound ran deeper than any river, lake, or ocean he fell into. How could she _leave_? How could she press on, choosing _a path a fate a world_ away from this country bathed in darkness, while she was the only beacon of light he had ever found?

Months withered by and not once had he seen her since their encounter in **xxxxx**. And here she was, nearly within his reach, yet simultaneously so far apart that the Bottomless Canyon could compare.

But why? Why was she here? Hoshido had nothing else gain aside from dethroning his father and decimating the population of his country. Nohr had fallen into a devastating state of ruin. Years on top of years of reconstruction would at least make Nohr barely sustainable. Nothing certain and nothing more. Erosion and Nohr’s generally unfertile soil made it difficult to raise crops. Harsh weather conditions coupled with awful terrain further encouraged famine and no doubt had it plagued the country for years.

Leo gazed at her, searching for any signs of _why why why_ she left but returned. He desperately wanted to understand why she was here. Why she desired to bear witness to the annihilation of the country he loved and loathed so much—a role she had a major part in. A role that they both had with their respective kingdoms.

He averted his eyes.

Guilt must have finally plagued her, along with the burden of solider and civilian deaths alike. She was still soft and desired some form of negotiation before resulting to combat. But no, she was still naïve. Only in war did weapons speak louder than words. Only with war will anyone ever know peace.

 

“Once we get rid of the last of Garon’s bastards, we will no longer have to fear of a future tyrant!”

Cheers erupted from all around, a deafening chorus. 

Just then, Leo felt someone shove his head into the bottom of the wooden frame. The person closed the stock around his neck and securely fastened it.

_How different would this have all been, if you stood by me instead?_

 

 

 


End file.
